Marco Polo
by jazznsmoke
Summary: When you accidentally play Marco Polo after a massive battle and your adopted father is a little (lot) worried and possibly freaking out.


AN: Can be read as a sequel to Peter Parker Turned Stark. Established Iron!Dad. Happy reading!

Buildings lay in pieces, strewn all over the street. Tony looked around him at the destruction, as he sighed in relief that the hours long battle had finally ended. Exhaustion licked at every muscle and bone in his body. He was grateful that they didn't have to call a 'Code Green'. The damages were extensive enough without adding the Hulk into the mix.

One by one the Avengers made their way to Tony. Everyone chatting with each other, making sure they have all their weaponry and equipment- a post battle wind down. He took in the group, Steve, Clint, Natasha, Scott and concern started to fill him. Where was Peter?

Tony cut through the chatter; his voice heard through the team's comms. "Spidey, battle is over. Where are you?" After a few seconds of silence, he repeated himself. "FRIDAY, is the suit offline?"

"I'm not sure, sir. It seams that the suit was not removed, but I am unable to connect to it or Karen."

Tony's heart rate spiked. The team went silent and turned to look at Tony.

"Tony?" Steve took a step closer to him, his hand reached and gripped Tony's shoulder.

His voice hitched, "Has anyone seen my kid? Who had eyes on him last?"

No one had heard or seen Peter in a while- he was supposed to be back up, and only removing civilians from the area. The mechanic bit down his rising panic and directed the others to look for Peter. The kid, his kid, is MIA. That's the part Tony can't understand. What happened that Peter was amid things? That's all Tony can figure happened- There's no reason under the sun that Peter would willingly leave a battle or stress Tony out needlessly like he currently is. Tony's heart rate increased, even as his vision started blurring at the edges. He forced himself to wade through the panic and held off the pending attack. He pushed the guilt creeping up away, too. He took slow, deep breaths and too slowly for his own sanity, got himself under control.

He ignored his team and focused on starting to search the immediate area. He vaguely heard Steve directing them to fan out and look. A part of Tony was really hoping that Peter would swing down from a remaining roof on one of his webs, scaring the shit out of him. Even if he knew that's not something his Peter would ever do. Not after a battle.

Even as he shifted through piles of rubble, as much as he wants to find his kid, that he won't find him; because finding Peter crushed under rubble would kill him.

"Status check," Steve's voice came over the comms. With every voice that spoke up, his stomach dropped even further.

He threw himself back into his search with a feverish intensity.

"Sir, your comms has been switched to a private line with Captain Rogers." FRIDAY announced, startling him from his thoughts and growing desperation.

"Did you find him?" Tony asked, immediately.

"Not yet," A pause, "We'll find him, Tony." There was an unspoken promise in Steve's voice. Tony clung to the reassurance with all his might.

"Steve," The one word held a myriad of emotions, the loudest of which was desperation and heart break.

Steve's response was firm, "He'll be okay. Our boy WILL be fine." He left no room for argument.

Tony took a couple of moments, letting the silence wash over him and help keep his rising fear at bay. In the quiet he faintly registered a distant sound. It was nearly impossible to make out what it was. It sounded kind of like someone yelling 'park'.

He called out, louder than before, straining to hear anything more. He turned in circles. He caught the sound again, carrying on the wind. He ran in the direction he heard it from. He stopped, hearing it again. His confusion grew. "Marrrrr,"

His breathing grew heavy as he dashed towards it.

He spoke into his comm, telling Steve what he was hearing and where he was going, before ignoring the comm's to continue yelling for Peter. The word finally became clearer. Tony stopped abruptly.

"Marco,"

The Iron Man suit with Tony inside it kept running, but Tony's thoughts were filled with confusion. Who was yelling 'Marco'? Could a kid be messing around? But what kid would be outside right after a massive battle that destroyed a few city blocks? He could imagine Peter outside with a bunch of kids playing the classic game. Even with Peter's knack for getting off track, that would be out of character.

He hesitated briefly before calling back, "Polo." He felt ridiculous. Not only was he a grown man, but a grown man wearing his Iron Man suit, and looking for his kid that disappeared after a battle.

A couple moments later the reply came. At least he was getting closer to whoever was calling Marco. A dozen yards further and he turned a corner, skidding around it. He could finally make out whose voice it was, and it pushed him to run faster. Friday sensed his urgency and the thrusters activated, propelling him forward at an insane speed. Information appeared on his HUD, a path towards where Peter's voice was coming from.

His suit turned into an alley, and the sight in front of him knocked Tony's breathe from him. His boy clad in his signature red and blue Spidey suit (what was left of it) lay on his back in a puddle. The mask was the only piece of the suit not worse for wear.

Tony's breath was knocked out, just from the sight, but he nearly cried hearing Peter call out Marco once again, like he couldn't hear the Iron Man suit as it came up to him.

He rushed to Peter's side and fell to his knees in the puddle. The suit retracted back into the nanotech housing on his wrist. Tony cupped Peter's cheek through the mask, and replied, "Polo, buddy."

The masks eyes widened and then squinted again, as if Peter's eyes were trying to focus. Moments felt like eternity for Tony, as Peter's eyes slowly focused on him. "Mr. Dad 'Ony?"

Tony shook his head and chuckled, bringing a hand up to gently caress Peter's cheek.

* * *

Peter's eyes blinked open, and he immediately shut them quickly, against the brightness. The teen hesitantly opened his eyes again, and blinked furiously, hoping they would adjust to the light. When the light continued to be too bright, he closed them and relied on his hearing instead. He focused on the steady beeping of a machine near his head and the sound of a heartbeat next to him- Tony's. Calm washed over him at the sound. He allowed himself to listen for any other identifying noises, and to feel out his own body. He could feel something in the back of his hand, the uncomfortable bed he lay on- not his own, in his own bedroom- Faint footsteps coming this way. He recognized the foot falls. He could hear faint talking somewhere nearby, but not loud or close enough to make out the words.

The footsteps paused when they got closer. As a door slid open, Peter finally recalled whose feet they belonged to. Steve. He kept his eyes closed but turned his head in the direction the door opened. "Steve?" His voice came out raspy and harsh. He started coughing and tried to muffle it.

"Here, buddy," Steve whispered and pressed a cup into his hand. Steve kept his hands firmly wrapped around Peter's, holding it steady. After he took a sip of the water, his throat felt better.

He opened his eyes briefly and slammed them shut again. "Turn off the lights, please?" He asked.

Without a word Steve crossed the room. Peter heard the lights being turned off and waited a couple of seconds before slowly opening his eyes. The relief he felt drained tension from his body, and he could finally look around the room and listen to what his body and senses were telling him. He hurt. He hurt everywhere.

Before he had a chance to ask any questions, Steve spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "You gave Tony and the rest of us quite a scare, Pete. What happened?"

"Uh… I don't know?" He looked up at Steve through his long lashes and shrugged. He winced at the pain the movement caused.

Steve shook his head fondly, "It's late, kid. You're pretty beat up; you should get some more rest and we'll talk more once you and Tony have rested."

At the mention of Tony, Peter perked up and remembered the heart beat he had heard before. He finally took a moment to look around the room. He realized he was in a room in the Med Bay at the compound. He scanned the room and his eyes fell on the couch a few feet away from the bed he lay in. Even in the dark he could clearly see Tony's outline sprawled on the much to small couch he was asleep on. One of Tony's hands were on his chest, the other almost touching the floor, one leg over the back of the couch and the other on the arm rest.

"Can you, uh, can you stay?" Peter asked shyly.

Steve smiled as he picked up a chair and brought it to the side of Peter's bed. He sat down and kicked his feet onto the bed next to Peter's. He reached over and ruffled Peter's curls before settling back. Peter felt his drowsiness increase, and he stopped fighting to keep his eyes open.

"T'anks, Capt'n dad," Peter murmured.

It was silent, save for their breathing and the medical equipment in the room for a couple of minutes, until Steve looked up towards the ceiling and asked, "You saved that, right, FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Captain. I have also sent the file to yours and the Boss's personal 'Peter files', as well as updated your contact info in Spider-baby's phone and the Boss's as well." FRIDAY replied, a hint of smugness in her voice. "Would you like for me to share it with May as well?"

"Please."


End file.
